Wouldn't it be wonderful to travel to a foreign country without having to worry about the headache of communicating in a different language?

In a recent Wall Street journal article, technology policy expert A lec Ross argued that, within a decade or so. We'll be able to communicate with one another via small earpieces with built-in microphones. That's because technological progress is extremely rapid. It's only a matter of time. Indeed, some parents are so convinced that this technology is imminent that they're wondering if their kids should even learn a second language.

It's true that an increase in the quantity and accuracy of the data loaded into computers make them cleverer at translating "No es bueno dormir mucho" as "It's not good to sleep too much." Replacing a word with its equivalent (同义词) in the target language is actually the "easy part of a translator's job". But even this seems to be a discouraging task for computers.

It's so difficult for computers because translation doesn't—or shouldn't—involve simply translating words, sentences or paragraphs. Rather, it's about translating meaning. And in order to infer meaning from a specific expression, humans have to interpret a mass of information at the same time. Think about all the related clues that go into understanding an expression: volume, gesture, situation, and even your culture. All are likely to convey as much meaning as the words you use.

Therefore, we should doubt whether a machine is able to translate the world around us. If people from different cultures can offend each other without realizing it, how can we expect a machine to do better? Unless engineers actually find a way to breathe a soul into a computer, undoubtedly when it comes to conveying and translation meaning using a natural language, a machine will never fully take our place.

No pains, no gains. This is especially true for Amanda Gorman. In 2021, she became the youngest poet to write and read her works at a presidential inauguration (就职典礼). The 22-year old impressed the audience with The Hill We Climb, which referred to both painful history and hope for the future.

You wouldn't know it from her delivery of her poem at the inauguration, but up until a few years ago, she struggled to overcome her speech problem. For much of her life, including when she was still an undergraduate at Harvard, Gorman had trouble pronouncing the letter "R".

Her situation presented difficulties, but also had benefits. "I think it made me all that much stronger of a writer when you have to teach yourself how to say words from zero. I think of my speech trouble not as a weakness or a disability, but as one of my greatest strengths. "

To practice saying the letter, she'd listen on repeat to one song packed with "R"s—Aaron Burr, Sir from Lin-Manuel Miranda's historical masterpiece, Hamilton. She would try to keep up with the singer as he was doing the rap (说唱). She believed if she could train herself to do this song, then she could train herself to say the letter "R" correctly. Sure enough, rapping along with Miranda's fast-paced rhymes worked, and: Gorman's performance of her piece, The Hill We Climb, ranked among the highlights of the inauguration.

Overcoming a speech problem is a milestone for her. Gorman said she owes a lot to the Pulitzer Prize winning musical. That was why she included a few references to Hamilton in her inspiring poem, some of which the author of Hamilton noticed: He praised her performance in a post. "You were perfect. Perfectly written, perfectly delivered. "

Many footballers struggle when they leave the beautiful game for retirement in their mid-thirties, with stories that are sad or even terrible. However, in his new book Kicking On!, Tony Rickson reveals the footballers who have achieved success after retirement, whether it's by setting up charities, helping others cope, creating multi-million-pound businesses or going into media, politics or back into the football world.

Tony Adams, a former footballer, set up a charitable foundation more than 20 years ago called Sporting Chance and said it's one of his greatest achievements. He's wrong. Despite all the cups he won while captaining Arsenal during a highly successful 22-year career at his only club, and all the times he played for England, it is his greatest achievement. Not just one of them.

As Adams admits in his memorable book, Addicted, he suffered from alcoholism and drug abuse while still a professional footballer. Setting up Sporting Chance was his response, and ever since it's treated and supported sports professionals suffering from drink or drug problems. The charity's offer is: "We understand that it takes courage to ask for help, either during or following a career in sport, so when you're ready to reach out, we're ready for you."

Since retiring from playing in 2002, Adams, who has a statue in his honor outside the Arsenal ground, has managed and coached in several countries alongside his charity work. He told The Sun: "What happened in my life with alcohol makes me feel so sad but also grateful that I found a way out of it. I've had highs and lows, in and out of football, given up playing and gone into coaching and management. I've not had a drink through any of it. My self-esteem (自尊) has come back and I am all right."

The self-assessment as "all right" also applied to his 2022 appearance in TV's Strictly Come Dancing, when Adams showed an admirable ability to laugh at himself.